Peru 2005: Day 4 — Inca Trail, km82 to Huayllabamba
DAY 4: Inca Trail, km82 to Huayllabamba
Wake Up
After the horse incident at 4 in the morning, things quieted down pretty well until our 6am (or was it 6:30) wakeup. At this point, the porters “knocked” on our tent and delivered two trays of steaming water for us to rinse our faces with. This was also the time I decided to take my temperature one more time and discover that it was still hanging out around 100.6. When i saw Andrea (our G.A. rep/guide) walk by, I stopped her to let her know I was feeling a little bit sick and give her a heads up. Soon, I had our emergency medic (a fellow tour member, Jim) asking me the great questions (phlegm-vomiting-greensputem-gas-diarrhea-etc???). Pretty much no-no-no-no-no, simply a high fever and some chest congestion. A metric thermometer later (none of us had a calculator, so it was meaningless) and then the porters arrived with our morning tea.
You see, 3 porters would walk from tent to tent. Two would carry a folding table with the tea and hot chocolate, and the third would ask what you wanted and mix it up. Hot chocolate with powdered milk and two scoops of sugar….mmmmm.
Didn’t manage to stomach too much breakfast that morning, and when we took my temperature again it was below 100 (the DayQuil was clearly helping.) At this point, i decided not to mess around and started taking the Diamox as well. Didn’t feel like fighting both a chest cold and altitude sickness.
We packed up our sleeping bag and and duffel and put it on the tarp laid out by the porters (they had to divvy up our gear for carrying). After breakfast, we had the porter introduction ceremony. Ruben (our head guide) introduced each porter by name and village. The traditional Quechuan porters from (???) village can be seen here wearing the bright red alpaca ponchos.
There were some Quechuan women at the camp site that morning, and they were selling alpaca knit gloves, hats and bamboo walking sticks. I picked up a fleece lined alpaca knit hat for a whopping 10 Soles ($3USD) and both Steph and I picked up bamboo walking sticks at 4 Soles each.
We walked outside to start the trail and immediately did a u-turn. It was COLD windy and rainy. For the record…after changing, I wore the following: long microfiber pants and waterproof rain pants, hiking shirt, fleece, rain shell, hat.
km82
It took us about 15 minutes along the Urubamba River to get to the km82 checkpoint. Steph, here looking like a drowned rat, stands in front of the sign at the classic start of the Inca Trail. Posing along the Inca flats in our matching rain suits….we had never been so happy to have a waterproof (i.e. not water “resistant”) solution to the problem. Rain continued all day (either drizzling or pouring) and we slogged through the trails (streams) which were sometimes ankle deep in Burro-piles and Ox-piles and Dog-piles and even some human piles.
Miskay, Llactapata
Leaving the 8900 foot territory, it was a steep uphill to the town of Miskay. As everyone took a load off, we ate the snack provided to us that morning by the porters (passion fruit, banana, trail mix) and fed what we didn’t eat to the Pig of Miskay (warning….great shot). After about 15 minutes, we reassembled and prepared to head out. We didn’t know it yet, but drama was afoot.
Just outside of Miskay, you come around a corner to see a trail that soars ~300ft at nearly a 45 degree angle. Yes, it is that steep and it was best taken one step at a time. At the top, we had the Urubamba River Valley to our backs and took a group shot, and yet another couple’s photo. At the bottom right of that last shot you can see the trail some 300 feet below. This same hill top that we had climbed upon gave us some great (cloudy) views of Llactapata (or Patallacta if you desire). The Urubamba River Valley gets quite narrow past Llactapata and the Inca Trail leaves the Urubamba at this point to head up alongside the Cusichaca River.
Cusichaca River
The next section of the trail ROCKS! It’s dowhill, steep at times, but with nary a stone in site. Instead, we walked on top of 6 inches of coarse sand. BRILLIIANT! The rain drained through without making a river and the sand made downhill impact quite comfortable. At the bottom of the Cusichaca River Valley, we looked forward towards more and more clouds. In just a little while, we came across another Inca Trail map. This one included an elevation profile (fairly accurate, mind you).
First off, did you notice in that shot that everybody is wearing a poncho or rain suit and looks like a drowned rat? Second, the white dot on the top graph way to the left (just after the first low vertical nubbin) is where we are in that shot. I’m not sure what the purpose of this sign intends to be, but I am damn sure that it was a little bit demoralizing! At this point we’re sitting at around 9,000 feet (we lost it all on that downhill) looking at a map that peaks out at 13,800. Ouch, ouch ouch.
And so up the trail we hiked. When the rain stopped, we got a chance to remove our hoods and try to dry out some. I would like to personally thank the dude who invented pit-zips on rain gear. Without that extra ventilation I would have been drowning (as opposed to simply soaking) in my own perspiration inside my waterproof ensemble. As we hiked this first full day, we learned to recognize the sounds of approaching porters and move to the uphill side of the trail to get out of their way. The porters will run you down if you down’t watch out (not really, they are actually very nice), and you have to watch out for a 5 foot tall dude carrying 80 pounds of equipment.
Time for a digression….
There are 2 main rules on the Inca Trail (we were told by Ruben, our wonderful guide).
- Always stop before you look up or around or take a picture.
- When porters are coming move to the UPHILL side of the trail (so as not to get knocked off).
(end digression)
As the day worked towards lunch, we took a short break in a Quechuan sheltered thatch roofed open walled cottage. We met some interesting dogs (see Bonus Section) and had some food thinking that lunch was still a ways off. Much to our surprise, when it was time to mobilize everybody yet again, the lunch site was only 30 yards up the trail. Lunch that day was tasty corn & quinoa soup (we would grow sick of this), avocado (always tasty) and ham, quinoa pancakes, tomatoes and cucumbers. We couldn’t eat as much as we’d like, given we had all just consumed powerbars and whatnot 30 yards ago.
As we got in line to get on the trail again, they performed the typicaly headcount. By this time, we had started figuring out a good order on the trail. Some people liked to always be in front and hike for speed. Others (that’s me & steph) didn’t mind so much hanging out at the back and chatting it up and taking lots of pictures. We made friends with lots of our sick fellow trekkers this way, as invariably people would cycle through the back of the line when they were not feeling so good.
Time for another digression….
There has always been a rule in my family regarding hiking speed
- Always hike as fast as the slowest person.
- Never let anyone fall behind.
(end digression)
Drama on the Inca Trail
Remember how I said that drama was lurking? Well, about 30 minutes up from lunch at a chicha stand by the side of the road, Ruben got a call on his FRS radio. We all stopped and stood on the trail as word came down that we were missing somebody. We quickly checked our buddies and realized that we had left behind Monique. A check back over digital cameras (standing ankle deep in soupy feces, of course) seemed to indicate that we had left Monique behind in Miskay…2 hours and a fork-in-the-trail ago. The worried looks on our guides faces were evident, and throughout the next couple of days frequent stops and trekker headcounts became the norm. Anyway, Ruben and Miguel hoofed it back down the trail (each taking a separate fork in the road) and after 15 minutes our group was underway yet again. We would make it to the campsite that evening without word (and lots of group worry). Around dinner time, we would find out that Monique had been sicker than a dog (TMI, vomiting water) and had fallen asleep at the Miskay rest stop. When she woke up, she hoofed it up the trail (missing the NOT OBVIOUS LEFT TURN after Miskay) and after a few hours she ran into another trekker group. The guides of that group made her lie down in a tent and get some rest. After waking up, she headed back towards Miskay (thinking she was lost, when in fact the trail branch she was on would eventually meet back up with the rest of the trail) where Ruben found her. Ruben was (naturally) overjoyed at finding the lost, wet, sick trekker….and when the group heard this we were all relieved and much more vigilant at watching out for each other.
Here’s what Monique wrote about the events:
If you want greater historical accuracy, after waking up at the rest stop and realizing that the group was gone, I asked for directions, thinking that someone would notice soon that I was missing and the group would stop and wait. I headed out without knowing that the directions I had gotten were dead wrong. The trail went straight down into a ravine, across a creek and straight back up out of the ravine – the steepest non-stair-climbing hiking I did on the entire trip – to a point overlooking some Inca ruins. This took 45 minutes, and I had serious doubts about continuing because I hadn’t seen anyone but a lone shepherd since I left the rest stop. I checked the “trail map” and discovered a picture and name of the ruins I was looking at, but no indication of where it was on the trail.
I was terribly sick by this point and becoming concerned for my personal safety, so I turned around and hiked through the ravine again back to the rest stop (hiked is generous, I was barely putting one foot in front of the other). I found the main trail and hiked on my own for about 3 more hours, and will spare you the details of frequent stops.
I finally reached a point where I was suffering too much to continue moving, out of food and water and unable to eat or drink anyway, and thinking that the Stanford group must have reached camp without missing me if they still hadn’t sent someone back for me. The last part wouldn’t have been so bad except that I knew our next camp was off the main trail and I was very unlikely to find it on my own.
I was resting on a rock in the pouring rain, contemplating my next move, realizing that I’d never been so sick in my life, and wondering how to stave off a serious and imminent double threat of dehydration and hypothermia, when the guide from another group, Jose, came out of their lunch tent to insist that I join them, warm up and drink some electrolytes (after the nurse traveling in their group gave me something to [temporarily] settle my stomach). I must have been a sorry sight indeed. I spent about an hour and a half with them before Ruben came along the trail looking for me, and I will be eternally grateful for their kindness. My biggest fear is that one of them was the one bitten by the snake after Intipata, since they were just a little ways ahead of us on the trail the last day.
Incidentally, the remaining hour and a half of the hike was no picnic; in fact, I’m still surprised that I made it to camp. After sleeping for a few hours I woke up (TMI – throwing up water and electrolytes, in our nurses tent that night no less; perhaps it was karma for leaving me behind?), and realized that if I was at home I would have headed for the emergency room. What a time to be in tent in the Peruvian Andes, listening to the rain. Fortunately Cipro works wonders.
As an interesting aside, Jose let Ruben know in no uncertain terms how bad it was that I had been left behind. I felt a little bad for Ruben since I don’t think it was his fault, plus he was the one who came back and found me, but I appreciate that he took responsibility anyway.
Huayllabamba
Anyway, travelling up the Cusichaca River Valley, we passed through Huayllabamba (a typical campsite) and kept going. We were set to gain another 1000 feet (which we would lose the next day) and camp at an off-the-beaten-path-and-safer site. En Route to this (unknown) campsite, we ran into several ox and donkey traffic jams. As steph smirks here, the donkeys were cute and fuzzy in Peru. We also passed by several small Quechuan thatched roof houses where the children played in bare feet (in the mud) and were always quick to come up to us — filled with curiosity but quickly told to come back inside by their mothers.
We approached the campsite as it was drawing near dark (still raining of course) and at some point caught this quick shot of the trail and the clouds. At the campsite, the ruins above us were still visible in the approaching darkness. At the campsite was another Quechuan house with a cute little girl (3 yrs old) trying desperately to keep a muddy puppy dog outside for the night (a definite battle of wills and some entertainment as our tent was being set up in the rain).
I also snagged a video of this pitiful sheep standing in the rain and bleeting its heart out. Dumb thing was not a trained performer and got cold hooves as I shot the video….only one bleet unfortunately. After digging rain trenches around our tent and checking for leaks, we managed to take a nap before dinner. We learned that hanging things up in a humid tent only makes them wetter (not dryer). We also learned what the smell of chemical toilets is like (we had 2 of them within 15 yards of our tent). Later that night, we also found out how many people were sick (TMA = vomiting, diarrhea or both) as there seemed to be a periodic string of flashlights to the chemical toilets.
Regardless….sleeping at 10,100 feet somewhere upriver of Huayllabamba and falling asleep to the rain against the tent (in our warm, dry, cozy sleeping bags) was definitely a good thing!
